Blizz

The Sisters of the Dying Branch

Iris Aderast

In a flash of magic, Iris' vision was blurred by one of the biggest fireballs she had ever seen. Crone's beak went straight into the eye of one vampire, but that was while Crone actually existed- was it Alayna? No. It couldn't be. Alayna's fire wasn't that deep, bloody shade of red. Crone was now a pile of ashes on the ground, and thankfully, so were the vampires. Iris had thankfully not been hit by the tar-ridden fireball, she could smell the blood on the flames. Her heartrate had spiked at first, but now she was safe. "Hey, than- Oh fuck..." She turned and saw Dakota - she can do fire magic?! - with her hand bleeding. She quickly rushed over to her and grabbed her hand, which was bleeding like a pig. "Here- Hold still." Iris reached into her pocket and pulled out a very small vial no bigger than one of her fingers. It held a strange, yellow colored liquid sealed with a piece of wax. Iris brought the liquid up to her mouth and bit the wax off to open it before spitting the thing out. She slowly poured the lemon-looking mixture onto the gash in Dakota's hand. It looked like dyed water, yet it had the consistency of room-temperature syrup, oozing out and sticking to her hand like glue. Dakota would be able to see the blood on her hand appear to blur and melt into her hand with the liquid. What Iris had administered was a healing solution that acted like glue. It was something Iris referred to as Lemon Wax. The solution dried to form a stiff layer on her hand, the cut wasn't gone but the active parts of the wax would maybe it close faster than normal. "There, just don't scratch your hand if it starts itching, and try not to get anything on it for a bit. You'll be alright- just wipe the blood off." Holding Dakota's hand in her own was a strange feeling, but she couldn't be thinking about that right now with Hana and the others in trouble. "C'mon, let's go." Iris hadn't ever felt this kind of adrenaline before, but she was running like Fenrir himself was nipping at her heels.

Once she made her way inside she saw everything unfolding like hell had sprung open: Calypso casting all kinds of wild Combat Magic, David having the absolute insanity to punch a vampire and...Hana. Iris' heart stopped for a minute, she watched blood dripping from her arm in streaks from her wrist. Arken was keeping an eye on her, that was good, but there was only one way something like that could happen to you in a fight with a vampire. She was bit. Hana had a coin toss' chance of seeing tomorrow or going home. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck- wait, Alayna? Fuck. Alayna. She was being tackled by a vampire, that really wasn't good, what the fuck was Iris doing now? She ran even more and tackled the vampire before Alayna could be hurt. What sounded like a screech was Iris just trying to work up the nerve to get further and further along with the fight. She was probably on the verge of going into autopilot, but that didn't matter to her. "Get up! Move!" Next thing she knew, Iris was on top of the vampire, she fidgeted for the dagger she had, grabbing it shakily and haphazardly slamming it down on the vampire's throat, she felt it plunge in, but only somewhat, it was stuck. She couldn't get it to come free as the bastard shook and writhed under her.

Fuck.

Isolde Morden

Isolde stepped out the door and waited for the rest of the group to come, to be honest, she was starting to feel restless. "I'm going on ahead, I'll be just down the road. Find me there." She said before walking off into the night. Isolde was used to walking on foot in the dark, the only difference between usually and right now was now she had street lamps overhead. It truly was a nice night for a walk despite being in a small, dead town such as this one. Isolde found herself alone in no time at all, the street lamps were off, but the moonlight kept things visible. Her phone was in her pocket and her gun at her waist in case she needed help. It was dangerous to go alone in an attempt to scout of the scene for vampires, but she wasn't going to chance a fight head on; If anything, she'd simply fan fire some shots to slow them down and run back while they were down. It would be better than not knowing if they were still here or not. The air was cool, and everything was dead silent, there wasn't so much as a light on anywhere except for the stars overhead. The street was dead silent, it was the perfect place for vampires to prowl. This is exactly why they'd come to this place, she figured. Vampires thrive on the dead silence of night, and there was nothing here for them to be witnessed by. That meant they were a lot more free here than a city.

Isolde was surprisingly full of energy at this hour, staying in a car like that would do that to you. She was wide awake without much more than a yawn to shake her, the longer she walked down the street, the more she felt something could be watching her. Anything. Not right behind her, she would hear that, but somewhere, towards the end of the street maybe. This town wasn't safe for anyone, certainly not witches of any kind. She continued until the hotel was nowhere to be found. She wasn't lost, in fact she only went in a straight line further and further. She had crossed a few streets to get here, and she was alone. Finally, however, she found something. A bar with people at it. It came into view as she made her way to a crosswalk at the end of the street. Strange. What time was it? Her phone said 11:08 pm. Who would be awake at this hour? Isolde opened her phone to shoot her witchmates a message- they had a group chat apparently.

Isolde: Everyone, people are around, there's a bar some 10 minutes away by foot. A few but we should be careful so we don't get spo-

She kept looking up and down from her phone to the cars when she saw something strange that kept her from finishing her message.

Someone was hurt over there.

Someone on the ground, blood on him. It was difficult to see, but it was blood no less. She quickly hopped across the street and got a little closer. Isolde couldn't quite tell if the man was dead or not, but he was bleeding. Shit, was that what she thought it was? There were people over him with their faces around his neck. Some women. There they were. "Perfect." Isolde's hands began to tingle with static as she pulled them from her pockets, a spark or two jumping between her fingers. She quickly hopped across the street and slowly made her way behind a car, the man they had by the neck was still squirming, one of the women was holding him in place. Isolde knelt down and took cover for a second as she charged her hand with energy. She had been hoping it would be this easy, and it was almost too good to be true. In her right hand, electricity began to well into being. A fizzing sound could be heard as she slowly stood up and came out of cover. The vampire on top of the man had her back turned to Isolde, but the other one simply had to look up at her to know they were seen. She was standing right in the open with a rather sour look upon her face as she raised her right arm behind her head, a bright, surging glow bloomed from her hand as she thrust it forward. In a brilliant, blinding flash, a bolt of teal lightning arced off from her hands and directly at the two of them. A rather loud crack sound pierced the silence of the night as the two creatures were struck by Isolde's lightning bolt. Electricity created a lot of heat, and vampires handled high temperatures poorly. There was no way they'd be able to survive that, but unfortunately, the man beneath them would be caught in it. Perhaps it was for the best, otherwise he may turn into one of them, and then he'd have to be killed anyway. Isolde's entire arm was riddled by static, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. Her clan of witches all knew the effects of electricity through the body quite well.

Two down.

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

@LustForDecay@datadogie

Frost listen to the Vrexul speak in his strange accent as his arm writhed in legion-like manners, she watched the holographs curiously. They emerged from his body like he was machine-like. Perhaps they weren't as different from androids as they seemed. Frost slowly pressed her gun into a holster she kept at her hip while he continued. This creature was like a hundred smaller ones, he was weird to look at, but it didn't bother her. She had seen unusual things before. This guy, Aczyiom, apparently, caught wind of their operations. Did he hear about it on the radio? Elsewhere? "Where'd you hear something like that?" Her own face was just a metallic sheet of rough texture with a glowing pair of eyes, no mouth, no nose, just glowing dots that suggested eyes. She was wearing street clothes, and old white t-shirt and her jacket, looking a little out of place with the scene around them. "How'd you find t-"

Beep...Beep...Beep.

"Who's this?" Frost picked up the datapad and hit the call button, setting it to speaker.

Just Another Hero

Doombreaker

Shortly after everyone had settled down, and Sealer got medical care, Harry went home as well as the others. Mizo went back to the hero commission sector where she operated to turn in her armor for the day, it was stored in a large, almost coffin shaped casing. When Mizo got into a more civilian look, she came out of the complex as little more than a tall, strong looking woman rather than a hero who could stare god in the face and make him blink. She wore a puffy jacket and jeans with a heavy looking backpack slung over her shoulder, walking home as the occasional small child waved at her calling her Doombreaker, they must've recognized her from the times she took her helmet off, and her scar gave her away a bit too. The hero was a completely different person from the righteous, armored beast she was while on the job. Now, she had a warm, peaceful look about her, even her hair looked different, it went down to her legs. Normally she kept it put up to prevent it from falling out. As she made her way down the sidewalk, few people even looked at her, which was fine for a hero off duty. The sky was clear, and everything in the city looked peaceful, like a large incident never happened. This was the type of thing Mizo took pride in, seeing everything at ease in a city where villains run around rampant, if it looks like nothing happened, thank the heroes. Shortly after walking for a while longer, she found herself in a more suburban part of Singapore where she and her parents lived. It was a one story flat in a small neighborhood, quiet and not too far from where she worked. That was all you could ask for, really. She pulled out a key and let herself in. Mizo would have the house to herself for the day, both of her parents were out working for a while longer, they weren't heroes, but they still had plenty of important things to do. Mizo thought about texting Mei for the 20th time about taking her out, but Mei was probably tired- they all were- from that foreign internship her dad took her on. It was getting late anyway. Might as well enjoy peace wile it lasted.

Penrose

Penrose, too, was enjoying a day off the next morning, a little sleepy eyed in her apartment in the middle of Singapore. Dark coffee and a morning sun with the news from yesterday playing. A newswoman with literal clouds for hair, a mutation, was reporting on the aftermath of Dominatrix and the collapsed building. Doombreaker and Penrose kept civilian tension low, while Sealer personally incapacitated the raging villain was a trademark punch to the body. It made Penrose smile knowing that the younger generation of heroes had good heads on their shoulders, and while they were all no doubt waking up late themselves, they couldn't rest forever. There was always another villain to stomp. Penrose looked much less intimidating now then when she was on the job, her pale hair was fallen back to her shoulders, and she was wearing boxers and a t-shirt. She looked like she only crawled out of bed 10 minutes ago, she probably did, too. She looked like a high schooler at a sleepover with her coffee and her bedtime look. Surely, if someone like Chariot or, god forbid, Yi saw her like this, they'd never look at the knife wielding illusionist the same again. Granted, if they did, she'd use her quirk, and they'd want to forget.

Talia didn't get out much on her days off, preferring to just enjoy the peace and quiet and occasionally have some time with some work friends. Of course, after a day like yesterday, no one really wanted to get out.

It was peaceful.

All was good.

.
.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Until it wasn't.

---

The Ghastly Villain: Nightmare

Hours later

A figure stood atop a building in the midday sun, hunched over, cloaked head to toe for sake of a skewed identity. Blood smeared across their burlap color attire in various places. Pale, bony white blades protruding down the pinky side bone of their arms, long enough to skin animals. A few of them had blood on them. At the ground stood a wounded villain, a lesser known one compared to names such as Zeal, or Chariot, but still a successful one in her own right. They were the number 23rd. Matterbender. She wore a tacky jumpsuit with what looked to be electrodes all over it. Matterbender's quirk let her telekinetically move anything she marked with physical contact, including people. Because of this, there were at least 20 combat knives floating over her head, pointed at the stranger. Matterbender was bleeding, and yet never could make contact with the elusive enemy. Her strength was fading.

"Give in. You have already lost." A grating, unpleasant voice called out, like a hammer on gritty stone.

"Never!" Matterbender launched a volley of knives at the assailant, who didn't even attempt to dodge. Every single knife embedded itself into various places on the stranger's body, and they stood completely still.

Matterbender looked in shock, especially so when they fell from the several story building, only to land upright. The knives appeared to be sagging in their impacts. "Don't make this difficult." they growled, blood smeared all over their bright, white mask, its eyeholes blacker than the abyss.

Matterbender stumbled backwards, growing weak from bloodloss. "They'll find you...The other heroes will kill you..."

"They will try." The knives in every corner of the hooded figure's body appeared to shrink and be swallowed up, they were melting and joining their body. This made no sense to the dying hero, who looked at her soon-to-be killer in confusion.

"Why...What did I ever do to you? I'm just a hero! I help people!" She screamed, though her voice was waning already.

Her attacker said nothing for what felt like an eternity, no one was around to listen to this wretch beg for her life, or to see the dreary figure towering over her.

"You don't help anyone. You only make the pain deeper. That's what all of you do. You are not heroes." There was no identity in the voice, only disdain.

"You are not the solution. You are not above the rest.

You..."

The stranger reached to grip the center of their chest, as their brown cloak dissolved before matterbender, and the last thing she ever saw was the insatiable hatred of a thousand jagged mouths as she became nothing at the end of her sad, disgusting life.

"Are a disease."

Just Another Hero

Nightmare

CS

The Ghastly Villain: Nightmare

"Until this horrid body grants me death, I will stand in your way."

Civilian Data

---

_Name

???

_{Physical Description}

Nightmare always covers their body from head to toe given the extremes their body deals with. Sunlight easily agitates their unnatural skin, which has the color of bleached leather; blotchy and feels like wax. It is rare to see their face, but their eyes are sunken in and bloodshot with solid black color where one might have blue or brown. Nightmare always wears a long cloak that hangs down to their feet, accompanied by knee high boots, and a solid white, undetailed mask with only two eye holes. On their arms are elbow length gloves with sleeves of a shirt tucked underneath, and what looks like a turtleneck. All of their clothes appear to be loose but secure, so it is difficult to make out many details about their strange appearance. Whenever they are fighting, these which are all a swirly dark brown color, seem to move with their body when Nightmare's quirk is being used. It's almost like the things they wear are alive...

_Age

???

_Ancestry

???

Villain Data

---

_Epithet

Ghastly Villain: Nightmare

_{Characterization}

A monster in the body of a human. Nightmare views the world as if it were a sick, rotting animal that is in dire need of being fixed before it is too late. This earth is dying, and all the heroes of the world only make the festering pain less ugly- painting pretty colors over infection only makes the infection messier.

Competencies

---

_{Quirk Type}

Mutation-Accumulation-Transformation Hybrid

_{Wretched Unbreath}

Nightmare's horrid quirk is a simple one, yet difficult to compensate for. Wretched Unbreath is divided into two individual factors, one a passive manner of torment for Nightmare, and the other a perpetual death march in the eyes of any living creature misfortunate enough to cross paths with them. Firstly, Nightmare is incapable of death, their body will not allow them to die. Nightmare's consciousness is found within every individual fiber of their body, down to the smallest cell; Therefore, they have near supernatural control over their own biology, meaning Nightmare can literally rip themselves apart and walk it off like nothing ever happened. This does nothing to dull Nightmare's pain, but they heal from unimaginably gruesome injuries with no trouble at all. While this side of Nightmare's quirk alone is a menace to society, it doesn't stop there. The other half of Nightmare's quirk allows them to assimilate matter into their own body, no matter its atomic structure. Metal, toxins, plastic- it all gets broken down and reconstituted as psuedo-flesh in Nightmare's body. They are an abomination of science and an offense to life.

Wretched Unbreath is one of the most repulsive quirks one could ever come across, the abstract nature of Nightmare's inability to die and infinitely fine control over their biology makes it a very gross and grisly sight to behold, but there are ways of combatting it. You just have to be careful you aren't grabbed by their false flesh and pulled in to become one through a perverted twisting of the process of necrophagy. In the same way Nightmare's entire body is a vessel for their consciousness, so to is it conscious to itself; every single cell that makes up their body is not specifically under their control, but rather, each acts in tandem with one another to carry out a collective goal under the instinctual belief that weakness breeds demise. Nightmare is an amalgamation of an unknowable number of organisms, every bacterial cell, skin cell, bone cell, and beyond, is alive under the depersonalizing name of Nightmare.

_{Other Talents & Attributes}

Destructive fighting style: Nightmare fights with aggression and always with killing intent.

Uncatchable: Nightmare can't be caught or killed, they will simply reshape their biology to slip out of handcuffs, or their body won't allow them to give into death.

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

@LustForDecay@Red Fox@datadogie

"Huh?" Who's there?" A strangely accented voice responded to Frost's voice- and it wasn't Vorra's. She instantly reached for her gun. She looked down off the balcony and saw something moving among the boxes and crates, a large, arthropod like creature. A Vrexul, eavesdropping on her, they weren't very common to see in federal space these days, and it only added to the amount of surprise to see someone here. "The hell?!" She was half tempted to raise her gun and fire on sight, but that wouldn't be a good idea, Frost had seen Vrexul once or twice in her earlier years- they were made for fighting. How much had this one heard already? They said something about work, did Vorra say something, or did he just hear that much? "Who told you that? Where did you come from?" There was a sharp tone in her voice as she barked questions at the intruder, she hadn't heard him come in. Ultimately this Vrexul probably wasn't that big of a threat, if he had been eavesdropping as long as she thought he was, he knew she was a criminal.

" " Frost, you have to see this. I'm saving the scan data onto my ships computer, it's too dangerous to be sent out freely. But the rumors seem to be true. Formalis is a gold mine. My scans picked up dozens of possible wrecks, I'm actually still counting them. But they are there, waiting for us. I'll go trough the scans in depth while travelling to you, filtering out the duds. You better get a trustworthy crew for this one. There could be enough stuff here to warrant a backstabbing or two. I'll leave Formalis within the hour, it will take me around a week to get to you. You prepare your part of the plan, I'll see what we have there. "

Instantly brushing off the unknown party, Frost would've smiled if she had a mouth. "Good, good. Get back here as soon as you can, that place'll probably be crawling with federal toadies before long, we gotta get there and get out as soon as we can- load the scrap onto your ship, and and sell it for creds. While you're on the way back, I'll put together a crew for us, I know just the person for the job, Frost out." The line clicked dead as Frost reach for her datapad, a slightly outdated model that was a little smaller than the more recent ones. Her fingers glided along the screen for a few minutes until she reached a particular contact with a group that owed her a solid- the White Ashes. They were a rebellious black-ops dystopian killing bunch of assassins who wanted political power, in Frost's eyes anyway, but they got results. A while back, she ran with a few of them around the back ends of Kastrack to set up something shady- the kind of shady Frost deals in. That was probably years ago, she didn't remember, but they made her a promise personally that they'd throw her a bone with one of their better agents when the need were to arise. Luckily, having friends in high places on rare occasion came in handy. Frost scrolled to a contact listed under the name APOLONIR. She ringed them up, beep...beep...beep.

Total silence for what felt like five entire minutes, Frost kept an eye on the guy downstairs in waiting..."I'll worry about you in a minute."

"Underneath the sun."
"Far above the clouds we soar."
"Into blinding winds we ride."
"Down into the darkest night."

"...Code acknowledge-" A voice retorted in a Spryzali accent. "Greetings, Ra- Frost."

"Yeah, s'me. About that time in Bluestrand..."

"The White Ash repays their debts. Whatever you need."

"I need one of your best agents, I have work that needs numbers."

"And I presume this agent is to be treated fairly, in relation to your...work."

"You get dirty, you get rich." Frost remarked bluntly.

"Very well, do you have any names in mind?"

Frost pondered that one for a second, then she remembered a certain someone.

"Get me Agent Wicked Falcon. ASAP."

"Understood. You will be patched through shortly, once Wicked Falcon and her handler are relayed your request. "

"Got it."

"And Frost- don't get our agent killed."

The line went dead as Frost waited for a phone call.

In the secret cogs of White Ash, information was sent to the people that needed it, until the brass got ahold of the tacks, and Molly "Wicked Falcon" Agaphira was assigned yet another mission.

Meanwhile, Frost pinged Vorra again. "If you're still there, I've got us someone good coming on board, I'll get back to you on that one, Frost out."

The plan was in motion. She turned back to the uninvited guest on the ground floor, roughly 15 feet down.

"Okay, explain yourself. Who are you? What's a Vrexul doin' in federal space?" Frost spoke with a blunt tone in her voice, her grip on her pistol had visibly relaxed a little, even if she still wasn't all too thrilled about someone getting the drop on her like that. It was a strange sight to see someone of his kind in a place like Davenrom, Vrexul despised the feds- probably more than her. She didn't actually know that much about his people, other than their weird biology and their messy history with the federation.

Meanwhile, on a distant land wracked with rime and mist...

A gruff, yet feminine figure trudged through feet-deep fresh fallen snow into a sunken valley. The sky was a churning cauldron of vapor and snow that one could rarely distinguish from the monochromatic, dim glow of the far away star that fit the barest definition of a sun. This was Formalis- a fringe land closed off from most of civilization, where you have to either be as hardened as the permafrost to survive, or capable of exploiting it. The physically stoic creature forged through the snow into a twisted, vaguely warmer mass of crashed ships, into shelter from the endless blizzards. Shortly after finding way inside. These ships hadn't been here long, they were still flaming and were painted with the hues of the Federation. No one survived the crash of these ships, which were meant to touch down in relative safety and establish a foothold, whether the native people wanted it or not. If agents of the government could gain so much as a scrap of influence over any land that wasn't already their own, they would spread like wildfire. The humanoid figure that stood to be roughly 6 and a half feet tall was a Skala, a native subcategory of Elksie to the frigid planet. She carried with her a walking stick with hardened bark for texture, and was covered head to toe in long, bulky clothes made of animal pelts and bones stitched together. The Skala woman stared at the broken mess of metal in curiosity, none of her people have surely ever seen such a thing. What would they say? Will more appear?

Bad things were coming to the dreary planet.

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

hm

nerd

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

For the glory of the Federation.

---

Davenrom | Saturday 15:29PM | Frost's Hideout

In the metropolitan city, people were going about their typical day. Cars rolled down roads, federal cargo amp-ships pulled into the docks, and life on this piece of federal territory was perfectly normal for all upstanding citizens of the Galactic Federation of Landrunia.

All the upstanding ones, anyway...

A renegade android nested in an old warehouse, in a largely abandoned section of Davenrom, out to the southside of the heart of the city. The building was found off the main road of Abernathy Street, only a couple streets away from a waterway meant to redirect flood surge. The warehouse was once one of three locations for a large shopping center, Megaplex, to store inventory on a large scale. It was now, however, collecting dust in a forgotten side of the massive city; An old retail building, full of useless junk, perfect for an android outside the law such as herself. No one came to this part of the city anymore, no one had lived in the neighborhood for a few years now. It was essentially a ghost town of houses and dusty buildings, and would surely be repurposed for another shopping center any day now. The android, going by the name Frost these days, sat on the steps of a staircase going upwards. The top of the stairwell was essentially her home, as the ground was cluttered with high-stacked boxes of depreciated trinkets and other capitalist wastings only children and shallow teenagers might care for most. At the inner balcony of the warehouse's stairs, a large walkway from one wall to the other accompanied by old railing, was a makeshift living quarters with the most notable things being a single-person mattress next to a hammock nailed to the walls, a large, dusty table with wipe marks, a gun, and magazines as well as several loose sheets of paper with various things on them. This was where Frost and an absent partner in crime stayed most days as of late, neither of them were on the good side of the law- they were effectively criminals. The broken windows of the second floor where they stayed were covered with tarps to keep the breeze out. It was a dull and pitiful image, living in a graveyard of retail in a completely dead piece of the biggest city on the planet, with the most things to do you could ever imagine. This was Frost's life, and she was fine with it. The android was staring out an intact window to the horizon, clouds drifted forward along the desolate sky of the street as the day grew longer. Any other person in the galaxy in such a city would no doubt be seeing a movie with their friends or hanging out after school, not Frost though. Not Frost. Androids don't live with that kind of luxury, in Landrunia's politics, metal is just metal.

The galaxy was surely brimming with opportunity and time wasters for what could be everyone else in the federal territory, and yet she sat her furthest from it all. Not even two weeks ago, she and her illicit and ever trustworthy partner in crime, Vorra Mau, were nearly caught by federal agents in another heist over in another city. It was simple, sneak into a military base, steal a federal APC, stuff as many weapons into it as possibly, load it onto Vorra's ship before sunrise, and cart it off to Eyrkosh. It was an easy plan for plenty of cash to be made, but the feds changed their patrol schedule, so the two crime artists had to ditch the APC. They managed to keep an assault rifle, which was stuffed under Vorra's bed, but they didn't get the job done, so they didn't take a trip to Eyrkosh's black market, meaning they didn't get paid. The whole thing got on Frost's nerves, they weren't doing so great on cash at the moment, and Frost's bike was low on fuel; if they didn't catch a break soon, they'd be in bad shape. Where was she? A few days prior, Frost contacted Vorra just before she started crashing at the warehouse, she heard on her radio about a couple of downed ships from some starside pirates on a place called Formalis, Frost had never been to a planet like that but from what the pirates were saying, it was pretty chilly. It was just the kind of luck she needed to turn things around, so she got Vorra on the line and slipped her a couple hundred credits to scout things out since she was the one who could hop into space. When Vorra would get back to the hideout, she'd get another couple hundred for the info she could get. If it was anything good, Frost would try to jump down there with a crew to take what she could before the feds came in to reclaim their property. The only issue was she hadn't heard from Vorra in a while, not since yesterday morning. Frost shut the window and made her way over to the table and grabbed a radio transmitter, roughly the size of her hand, to try and get ahold of her partner on a low scale channel that feds wouldn't be on. Of course, anyone in the low 20s could hear her, but no one would be on them, more than likely, except those two who operated regularly on it.

"Vorra, it's me. You alive?" Frost's voice sounded like it was rather rough, coming through the radio, but in person it sounded like she was speaking through a radio anyway. The papers next to the radio looked to be a drawn out, half done strategy about how to tackle the operation, from loading tech to directions gathered from chatter.

@ZAVAZggg@CitrusArms@LustForDecay@datadogie@Letter Bee@Red Fox

Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

The Criminal

Frost

Species

Android

Gender

Female

Age

"Don't ask."

Personality

Mellow and mostly stoic like the metal that makes her body, Frost is resourceful and knows how to get by without needing to look over your shoulders for Federation goonies. She isn't the kindest person ever, and is actually a little unpleasant if you're not her friend, but that's only from her habits of not trusting easily. Frost doesn't have a problem with lending a hand when it matters, but she won't help someone who won't help herself. It sounds heartless and cold, but Frost didn't get anywhere in life outside of the Federation's grip by being soft. Frost is what the white collars in the center of the galaxy would call a lawless vagrant, but all that means is she doesn't pay any mind to the government; Frost listens to her own rules, not the Federation's, and that means she's not afraid to do things just because the Federation deems them illegal, she will help people she calls her own, whether she's guilty of crimes or not. She probably would be if she were ever caught for doing something illicit, but that's why you never get caught. It's only illegal if they find you. Frost has done a lot of line-blurring things in her time, and she's not proud of everything she's been responsible for, but everything she does that threatens or offends the laws or the rest of the world is something that she does to survive. The feds don't care about Androids, so it's her only option in life.

Frost likes to chase after gain from time to time, having worked in shady environments often, she knows how to get in on word about things that go unchecked, places you can loot for every last credit, places you can steal some goods for profitable under-the-table trafficking, the usual outlaw stuff. She likes to do things honorably, contrary to what you might expect, so anyone involved in her hits, runs, jobs, heists and so on get their fair share when the sun sets. Every hand that helps lift the lid of the jar gets their own cookie afterwards. Frost lives and breathes the underside of society, out of both survival and living, there is no bragging right to be found in stepping on people already low on the totem pole when you’re trying to live another day yourself.

"I didn't get to where I am now by obeying laws and rules. No I’m my shoes does, if you trust me, I’ll make sure you’re better off for it. In my work, you get paid for running on the edge.”

Reputation

An outlaw at heart. Frost is known by a fair amount of people who live on the fringes of galactic civilization, the stellar frontiers, so to speak; To those people, she's just a very self-reliant Android who lends a hand every now and then, but to some Federation records that go back a little, there is an Android named Radon whose description Frost fits quite well; Accounts of government property theft, illegal asset trafficking (a fancy, bureaucratic way of saying black market dealings) and arrest evasion; No one knows this exactly, but she faked her death some unknown amount of time ago, and has been going by the name Frost since then. She tries not to get entangled with the law at the risk of those charges coming up, but everyone runs out of miles to walk someday.

"It's not the life I asked for, not the life anyone asks for, but it beats being in a federal jail for trying to survive."

History

[+]

Many, many years ago, an Android crawled out of an old, ran down building in the metros of the federation. Not a scrap of anything more than metal and dirt on the old thing in the planetside night. The rickety machine stumbled to its feet as its thoughts calibrated each other, and things became clear as they do to a mind that doesn’t decay like that of flesh. An Android named Radon. Everything was foggy, but she knew that she was alive, and her own. Everything made sense but only the things around her, not behind the present moment. Radon was covered in dirt and grime evident that something just left a moldy building teeming with lotholi colonies. To this day, she can’t remember a lot. She wishes she could, but she can’t.

If androids could cough, she’d be doing that. Radon stumbled through a slum in federation territory, boarded up windows and blurry music from nightclubs passing her by as her mind still tried to grasp everything. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in time for some idiot to come stammering down the streets into her. It was late, and a human solider had just left a bar, he was walking down the sidewalk she was going down. Radon was jumpy, and it must’ve been annoying to the cocky man, he stared wide-eyed at this Android walking around naked, like it had seen a ghost. Radon was stammering down the sidewalk scared and confused while her mechanical brain was still trying to sort it out, when she ran into him quite roughly. How rude of her to disrespect a federation solider.

Radon tripped and fell, and the soldier almost fell too.

“Hey! Better watch it you fucking idiot. Scrapyards back the way you came.” He grunted, Radon didn’t even bother listening to whatever the guy said, when she tried getting up. “You drunk or somethin’ I’m talking to you, dumb fuck.” Was he drunk.

”S-I.. So...” Radon’s head wasn’t right, she was struggling to process what was going on. “Huh? You speak English or what?” Radon was on her feet, but the soldier harassing her was acting like a pain in the ass, so naturally he shoved the poor thing down, but she grabbed his arm, pulling him back down too.

“Hey! Fuck! Get off me!” He yelled as he kicked at her, after standing back up. His boot banging into her metal stomach. “Fucking stupid little bot. Can’t even speak English.” He took another kick at her, apparently it was fun to bully androids around here. “Scrap piece of shit!” and another kick, people were starting to take notice as they passed by. Bang, bang, bang. Somehow the kicks to her body were actually painful to Radon, how? Her uncalibrated was just now starting to grasp what was happening, a human male was beating her up and she was curled into a ball on the ground, taking it.

“Bitch!” He yelled out as people watched, no one cared. No one cared. It hurt. Bang. Bang. Bang. Stomp.

Crack.

Radon clamored to her feet and swung at the soldier like her life very much depended on it. Her brain was adjusting. She swung at him like she was clearing a table off. He fell back against the ground for a third time as people on the sidewalk gawked. He wasn’t happy about it, and he definitely didn’t like the fact that she was stomping over to him instinctually to deck him again, he pulled out a gun, a sidearm, just a little too slow to get pack another ham fisted right hook. The gun rattled around on the sidewalk, grabbing her attention.

“Fuck!” He yelled, people began whispering as both him and Radon, who was running on fumes mentally, tripped over each other to grab the heavy looking gun, Radon fell on top of it, and the soldier she was in a tussle with bashed his boot against her side again.

“Give me back my gun you fucking d-“

Whoosh

She grabbed it by the barrel and swung it at his knee, and it hurt like hell. He yelped as he bent over in pain, and Radon took another swing, at his doubled-over head. A loud Thud as a car came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road which they had fell into. Not just any car, a federal patrol cruiser. What the hell was happening on the road?

Radon blacked out for a while, and came to her senses in a police station. They took her in for questioning. Radon was sat in a chair across from two federal policemen, but her aggressor was nowhere to be found.

”Mm. Where am I...”

“Hell, it talks after all.”

“Yep, now listen, what in hell were you doing beating up on a federation soldier? Thought you’d get away with that, sparky?”

Naturally, they didn’t believe an Android who acted in desperate self defense, and they cuffed her to the chair she was sitting in. The gun from the incident was sitting on the table as evidence. She doesn’t remember much other than yanking on the handcuffs, shooting one of the feds, and running. That was where that memory ended.

She’s spent every waking day since then, all those years ago, running from federal agents. Living in their blind spots under the name Frost. She hid out in abandoned towns, countrysides, and safehouses all over the place, even saved up enough credits to buy a bike off some smugglers she got to know.

A rough life, sure, but hers.

No one could take that away from her.

Gear

Weaponry

Siber-4219 SI3: Effectively the glock of Landrunia, one of the classic sidearms most popular with federation soldiers. Holds a magazine of 13 rounds chambered in 20cal steel carbide rounds. Steady enough to dump an entire clip into someone with relative ease. It has an optimal range of roughly 50 feet. Frost is never not carrying this around with a handful of mags tucked away under her belt or in her clothes.
”Love this thing. Plenty of rounds, looks nice too.”



Chrome-carbon combat knife: Frost’s trusty knife she’s carried for a long time, sharp enough to eat out of a can with, if she had a stomach. Like her gun, frost always keeps this on her.
“Hey, never know when something needs a good sticking.”

Attire

Visibly weathered but in decent shape, Frost’s getup echoes her rough life of not throwing things out just because they’re scuffed up.
”This old things seen me through a lotta rain.”

Transport

Canderain B-Model Horizoneer: A real workhorse if a hoverbike. A full 25 liter tank of fuel will get you a hundred miles, it even has a storage trunk under the seat for cargo.
“Old reliable, it is. I usually slip a pirate some cash for a spot on a ship to get across the galaxy, but planetside, this old beast don’t quit.”

Other

753.52 federation credits. In cash.
“Enough to last me a while.”

A small handheld device full of shady contacts, similar to a phone, but more like a pdf with a comms channel than anything.
“Helps to know a guy for this stuff. Can’t have too many friends when you live like me.”

A notepad and a pen with scribbling sand run on sentences about a planet called “Formalis” and something about a ship.
“Maybe I can scrape together a crew for it before the feds get down there.”

To Claim a Starting World

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Tales From Landrunia: Ten Thousand Suns

@CitrusArms pre-approved